Pursuit
by omasuoniwabanshi
Summary: A pre-Robin STNJ hunt, a young witch is unexpectedly rescued by none other than Amon and Nagira. Completed.
1. Default Chapter

CHAPTER 1: PURSUIT

How long had she been running? It seemed like forever, though she knew it had only been one day. It was almost 24 hours since the incident at the bank where she worked.

Mai crossed the street, glancing furtively around for signs that anyone was watching. She'd been walking aimlessly all day. She didn't dare go back to her apartment. She'd tried around dawn, creeping along the back streets and alleys, and had nearly stumbled into the unmarked car on a side street, the one with two people in it staring at the front entrance of her building. Mai didn't need a neon sign to figure out that they were waiting for her to come home.

How had things got so crazy so fast? She'd just been minding her business, clearing up her desk area at the bank, waiting for the manager to get off the phone so she could ask him about changing her vacation days when the stranger knocked on the glass doors. She'd barely looked up when the security guard hurried over to the doors to tell the stranger that the bank was closed for the night. The shots had come as a complete surprise. She sat at her desk with her mouth open, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest as the wild eyed, unkempt man pushed his way in, past the guard's body crumpled in the doorway. He'd pointed his gun at the manager, screaming for money.

Mr. Hiroshi had dropped the phone, and raised his hands above his head, trying to placate the man, to calm him down, but it only seemed to make matters worse. The man kept screaming, and then he shot Mr. Hiroshi in the chest. This time, Mai had jumped at the sound, and that movement brought her to the wild man's attention.

Bank robberies were supposed to happen in daylight, when the tellers were at their stations, behind the front counter. Mai hadn't trained for this. There was no alarm button at her desk, just at the tellers' workstations, and when she saw the gun pointing her way, she panicked.

There was a heavy metal sculpture hanging on the wall across from her desk. Her instincts took over, and she let loose the power that resided within, the ability or curse that made her different. It was a power she'd resisted using for years. She didn't want to be different, didn't want to think about what that ability said about her, about what she was. A freak. Hiding it, not using it, had been easy. Until now.

With a screech of protesting metal, the bolts holding the metal sculpture to the wall came out. As the man tried to aim the gun at her with shaking hands, the rough metal sheets, that always reminded her of crumpled linen on an unmade bed, came crashing down on him, crushing him to the floor. A pool of blood began oozing out from the pulpy mass that had once been a human being. She could see parts of the man still protruding from under the fallen sculpture.

Mai was shaking so hard that she accidentally shoved her coffee mug onto the floor. It seemed to her that the crash as it broke, was louder even than the sculpture's fall. Regardless, it galvanized her. She forced herself to move to Mr. Hiroshi, who'd fallen against his desk. His eyes were open, staring vacantly at the ceiling. She'd known he was dead, but forced herself to check his neck for a pulse. He was still warm, but he was very dead. She'd nearly vomited then, but choked it back. Coming around the tellers' stations, she crossed the floor, carefully not looking at the mass of body parts and metal in the middle of the bank, and tried the guard. He was dead too.

Not knowing what else to do, she'd trailed back to the teller stations and hit the silent alarm. Still shivering from reaction, she'd put her coat on, crossed her arms, and sat back down at her workstation to wait.

The police had come, taken her statement, and made her stay for hours. They'd photographed, poked, prodded, viewed the security tapes, and asked her even more questions. One of the detectives began looking at her oddly after coming out of the security office where the videotapes fed in. When another detective had offered to drive her home, he'd stopped him. Mai had asked to use the ladies room then, and as she passed the detective who'd prevented her leaving, she overheard him opening his cell phone, and asking to speak to someone in the STNJ.

Mai did an abrupt about-face in the hallway and walked rapidly out the back entrance, masking her retreat by joining a group of crime scene workers wheeling the body of the security guard on a gurney out the back way to the coroner's van.

It was fully dark outside by then, and she'd lost herself in the dinner crowds, jamming the sidewalks on their way to the many restaurants in the financial district. She kept walking among the people until the crowds thinned out, and it would have been too conspicuous to be walking alone anymore. Then she'd found a park on the edge of a residential district. Not knowing what else to do, she'd found a bench secluded by a tree, and slept there.

In the morning things had seemed, if anything, worse. The day she'd been dreading ever since childhood when she first realized she was different, had come. They knew. They had to have figured it out when they saw the security tape. There was no way that sculpture could have pulled itself off the wall, levitated horizontally, then dropped on the bank robber. Mr. Hiroshi and the guard being dead at the time, and the robber unlikely to have done it himself, especially considering the outcome, the only one left who could have done it, was her.

She'd been able to move, even manipulate and bend, metal objects since she could remember. Her mother had discovered her secret and made her promise to hide it. So she had, at first to please her mom, and then later when she'd grown up enough to realize the dangers of being 'different', for simple survival. But now the secret was out.

Once she realized that, she knew that her life was over. Job, friends, family, all of it was lost to her. She didn't want to see the fear in their eyes when they realized what she'd done, what she could still do. She didn't even want to think about what she'd done either, but her rebellious memory kept flashing back to it, and a small, insistent part of her kept remembering how it had felt. Oh, it was horrible, to be sure, frightening also, but there'd been that dark little corner of her soul that had gloried in it. She'd wanted to pay that slimy drug crazed criminal back for shooting the security guard and her manager. She'd wanted to kill him before he could kill her, and she'd done it.

But what now? She'd taken her purse with her, so she used some of her cash to buy breakfast after her abortive attempt to return to her apartment, then had spent the rest of the day hiding out. She went to two museums, had lunch at a crowded noodle bar, and wandered until it began to get dark again. She couldn't seem to come up with a plan. Putting her friends or family in danger was out of the question, besides, the police or that mysterious STNJ were probably watching them in case she showed up.

She'd wandered so far she was down at the port district now. Coming down the street was a police patrol car. So lost in thought was she, that she almost didn't notice it until it was nearly alongside of her. Turning her face away, she darted into a shop, waited until the police car drove past, and then walked as far away as she could.

From that point on, every stranger was a possible enemy. She found a crowd of businessmen exiting a subway station, and followed them down to the sea. They were on their way to a ferry. She got in the pedestrian line with them, moving slowly past the line of cars waiting to board the boat. Buying a ticket, she got on. The line had been long, and it worried her that other people had joined the line after her who'd not been among the group from the subway. In particular there was a woman with layered blonde hair in a bright green top who seemed inordinately interested in the people in line. Mai kept her head down and moved immediately to the railing of the ferry, her back toward her fellow travelers.

The ferry disembarked with a shudder, and began steaming away from the port. Car doors opened. Behind her, she heard people getting out, moving inside the cabin for coffee, ending their normal days, on the way back to their normal homes and families. A sharp pang of envy stabbed through her. She watched the white foam on the waters, black now in the dusk, washing away from the boat.

A man in a dark raincoat came up to the railing and stood beside her. She stole a quick glance at him, then another longer one when he remained where he was. He was tall, stern featured, yet young with longish black hair that hung against his cheekbones. Sensing her gaze, he lifted his chin and looked back at her.

He put his hand under the lapel of his jacket, and she knew in that instant that he had a weapon there, that he'd waited until he was close to her so he could take it out without anyone else seeing.

For an instant, she couldn't move, couldn't react at all, and then, as in the bank, instinct took over. A car, parked on the upper deck, lifted by itself, and began flying toward them. Mai realized, even as she called it over, that she, along with the man who was the car's target, was going to be hit by it as well, but she didn't care.

Then his arm was around her waist, and he'd pulled both of them over the railing and away from the car. Mai, falling, opened her mouth to scream, just as the car passed inches overhead and plunged into the sea, hitting the water at almost the same moment she did.

Water filled her mouth, and she choked, sinking beneath the salty liquid and the weight of the man, who'd fallen on top of her. She was caught in his coat and kicked wildly, stroking away from him, but he wasn't pursuing her. In fact, he just lay face down in the water, and then his body rolled and began to sink. Meanwhile the boat was steaming quickly away. Mai could hear yells and commotion, but the boat hadn't stopped, at least not yet.

The man was completely motionless, his sodden clothes weighing him down as hers were. His face was pale, turned upward, and in the starlight she saw a gash bleeding profusely, on his forehead. It reminded her of Mr. Hiroshi, and the gaping hole in his chest. All that blood, pouring out and staining his shirtfront, and she'd done nothing to stop it. She'd let him die.

"Not this time." Mai muttered to herself. Kicking off her shoes, she dipped under the water and shook her coat off. Surfacing, she saw the man had turned again and was nearly submerged, only the top of his head showing. She dove, got the crook of her elbow under his chin, and pulled him to the surface.

It took a long time to swim back to shore, pulling him along with her left arm hampered her, but she made it at last, cutting through the seawater, fouled with gas slicks and floating junk. A small beach bordering a road built up on a berm, became her goal. When the bottom came up, she stood, and dragged the man as far up the sand as she could, until he lay in the shadow of the berm. She put her chilled hand over his mouth. He wasn't breathing.

Mai had taken the employee first aid seminar, but she'd never performed CPR on a human being. Shaking off her trepidation, she knelt in the sand next to him, checked that he hadn't swallowed his tongue, and began breathing into his mouth. He had a pulse, so she didn't have to compress his chest.

After a few minutes, he retched. She moved back, and pulled him over so he could cough out the seawater without choking. When he moved, she saw that his head wound was still bleeding steadily. Past any false modesty, she grabbed her blouse and opened it by ripping the buttons off, shrugged out of it and massing it into a wad, fashioned a compress.

The man was still coughing and hacking, when she got behind him, and grabbed his shoulders, turning him gently back so his face was to the sky. He continued to cough intermittently. She leaned back against the seawall that supported the road above. Cars went by, oblivious to the scene on the beach. She pulled him up so his back and head rested against her chest, and pressed her makeshift compress against his head wound. He hissed, so it must have hurt. Mai gave an incomprehensible murmur of sympathy, but kept the compress on. When he put his arms on the sand and tried to lift himself up and away from her, she simply tightened her knees on either side of him, and said,

"Stop it, lie still. You've lost a lot of blood."

That seemed to quiet him, and he gradually relaxed against her. She began to worry.

"You may have a concussion. You should try to stay awake."

"I'm fine."

He was certainly a terse one. Mai couldn't tell if his head wound had stopped bleeding or not, but she wasn't going to take any chances on the concussion.

"Even so, you should talk or something to stay awake."

"What about?" His voice was low, suspicious.

Mai said the first thing that came to her mind. "Are you with the STNJ?"

His body stiffened.

"What do you know about the STNJ?"

"Nothing, really, I just heard the detective at the bank calling them. I think he was calling them about me. You are STNJ, aren't you?"

He didn't reply, so she went on. "What does the STNJ do exactly?"

The silence went on for so long, that she thought he wasn't going to reply, then he said, "We hunt witches."

"Oh." So there it was. He knew about her. So she was a witch? She didn't feel like one. How could she be one and not know it? All she'd ever known was that she was different, freakish. Mai cleared her throat and asked quietly, "Why? Why do you hunt witches?"

"It's my job."

Period, end of statement, complete thought. Mai could tell that for this man, it was enough. That was the only answer he'd ever give. It was in the tone of his voice, a finality of thought. She sighed. Her knee bumped against a metal object in his coat.

"You still have your gun, don't you? Are you going to kill me?" In this bizarre conversation, shivering in the cold night air, sopping wet, holding a bloody compress to his head, it didn't even occur to Mai to be afraid. She felt numb, distanced from it all. "Will it hurt?"

"No. It's a tranquilizer gun." the man's gravelly voice came calmly. "You'll be turned over to the factory."

Mai shifted a little, the rough creosote smelling planks at her back were uncomfortable. "What happens at the factory?"

This time the man didn't answer.

"I really don't want to know, do I?"

He made an involuntary sound in the back of his throat, but didn't reply directly. Mai took it as an assent.

From across the water came the sound of a speedboat. It was beaming a search light to and fro up the shoreline. Mai watched it absently.

"They're looking for us, I think."

"Yes."

She sighed. "Is it your friends? The STNJ?"

"We don't have boats. They probably called in the coast guard."

"Oh." A thought began forming in the back of her mind. It was a way out. "I'd better make sure they find us."

She could feel his start of surprise as she eased him forward so she could get out from behind him. Away from his warmth, she felt goose-bumps form all over her. He really did have a concussion, because he continued to lie in the sand, supporting himself on his elbow. She walked to the left toward the water, and began waving her hands over her head. The search light caught her immediately, and the boat came in close. A man on a bullhorn shouted "This is Lieutenant Yamada with the coast guard. Remain where you are, we will be with you shortly."

Mai fought the urge to laugh. How polite and formal they were. Imagine introducing yourself in a situation like this. Still, she supposed it was only right to return the favor. Extending her right arm out behind her toward the man lying on the beach, she concentrated, and used her special ability to call his gun out of his coat.

It landed with a satisfying 'smack' in the palm of her hand. The weight and heft of it was stronger than she'd expected. It was no ordinary gun, but it was gun shaped and would have to do. She gripped it, and stepped further into the searchlight so the coast guard would be sure to see her.

"I'm Mai Izuki, and in five seconds I'm going to kill this STNJ agent."

She heard two muffled oaths, one from the man on the beach behind her as he tried to scramble to his feet, and the other one from the coast guard boat. She'd read somewhere that the coastguardsmen were required to carry weapons and get tested at the firing range just like regular policemen. She was gambling on it being true.

"One, two," She almost made it to three when the shots rang out. It felt like being punched, hard, in the shoulder. She flew backward and landed on the sand, and the hot pain spread out across her chest. 'This is how Mr. Hiroshi must have felt' she thought to herself, and then the wounded man was at her side. He pulled her to him, and placed a wad of fabric, her blouse, she realized, against her chest. It hurt so badly, she wanted to cry.

Drops fell on her face. She couldn't tell if it was seawater from his hair or if he was crying. She tried to lift her hand to see, but couldn't raise it more than a few inches off the ground, so she let it fall back onto the sand. "Don't cry." She managed to say. "It's better this way."

She closed her eyes and willed herself to drift away. Now she wouldn't have to face her family or her friends. As her last shred of consciousness faded, she felt him place his hand gently over her eyelids, as if giving a benediction.

"I never cry." He said, and then everything went truly dark, and she was gone.


	2. Capture

Disclaimer: I don't own Witch Hunter Robin plot or characters.

CHAPTER 2: CAPTURE

Flash...flash...flash....

Mai could sense the rectangular flashes of light at regular intervals through her half closed eyelids. She was lying on her back, and knew that she was moving. There was the squeak of wheels beneath her, her hands and arms lay on fabric of some kind, and the top of her right index finger lay against something smooth and cool. Metal. She was on a moving metal thing with sheets. A gurney.

The pain in her chest and shoulder seemed blunted, dull somehow. There were voices fading in and out of her consciousness.

...Nurse! Why didn't ...

...Some question of custody...dispute between....

...Say they're guy who brought her in....distraught.....

...Don't care about that...surgery....now!

After that the flashes of light from the hallway ceiling's fluorescent fixtures stopped. There was a pinprick in her arm, and everything became hazy.

There were brief moments when she could think enough to understand what was going on, but they never lasted for long. She heard raised voices outside her room, felt the cool, efficient hands of a nurse checking the tubes coming out of her nose, and arms. Once she heard paper being flipped or turned and the rattle of a clipboard being replaced. But mostly she just endured the pain, and slept.

Movement again. It was darker this time, the flashes of light further apart. The squeak of the wheels was the same though, and somehow, though her eyelids refused to open, she could hear better. Two voices. One oddly familiar and male, the other lower in register, and not familiar at all.

"Thanks." The word was terse, as if wrenched out of him against his will.

"You're welcome. I guess I should thank you for calling. I didn't think you ever would."

"There was no one else I could trust."

"I can see your point." This voice had a darkly amused undertone, and Mai wondered if he were laughing at the owner of the other voice, or at himself. "Will there be trouble for you when they find she's gone?"

"I can handle it."

"You know, I am a lawyer. If you ever need my services, I'd be happy to give you a family discount."

Silence from the other voice.

"Sorry." The amused voice didn't sound very repentant. "I guess that wasn't very funny."

"We're here."

Mai felt herself being lifted, gurney and all. There was the brush of cold air against her face momentarily, then the sound of car doors opening. A muffled curse at her head as she tipped a little, then straightened out. She tried and failed to open her eyes, but managed to move her head a little.

"Is she waking up?" The lower voice, the one Mai thought of as the amused one, asked the question doubtfully.

Mai felt a tug at her hand, then the other voice answered.

"Her IV came loose. It's back now."

"It wouldn't do to have sleeping beauty wake too soon. I don't think she'd be very happy seeing you again, considering."

"No."

Someone brushed by her in an enclosed space. The car like doors slammed, and Mai subsided into the silent darkness of unconsciousness again.


	3. Waking Up

Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin characters or plot.

CHAPTER THREE: WAKING UP

It itched. Her chest just by her shoulder itched. Mai's eyelids quivered and her hand moved restlessly toward the source of the itch, a painful spot covered by a bandage.

Someone's hand captured hers and moved it back to her side. Startled, Mai opened her eyes and saw a short, middle aged man with a receding hairline and a funny little moustache fussing with the tube leading from the back of her hand to a fluid filled sack hanging beside her on a metal stand.

"You mustn't touch it." He said, looking at the fluid level in the clear sack.

"What?" Mai's voice was faint, shaky.

"If you keep poking at it, it won't heal properly and then I won't get paid." The little man tapped the sack reflectively then stepped away from Mai who was, she realized, lying on a hospital gurney.

She wasn't, however, in a hospital. The room was dark, lit by a low watt bulb hanging starkly from an electric cord mid-ceiling. Hazy afternoon sunshine tried feebly to make it through the once-white, dingy sheet hanging over the one small window. A rather tattered looking mattress topped by a sleeping bag lay on the floor along with a duffel bag she assumed belonged to the man. A tatty bureau, missing a drawer, and a badly mended table with two flat mismatched pillows lying under it completed the décor.

The man moved over to the bureau, opened a drawer and meticulously began setting out a steel tray, medicine bottles, and other medical paraphernalia.

"Where am I?" asked Mai suspiciously. This wasn't a hospital; it looked like a flophouse.

The man turned, holding a syringe, and looked her in the eyes for the first time. "You're safe. I'm taking care of you like I took care of my mother, when she was sick. I do know what I'm doing." His brown eyes turned reproachful. He acted as if he were insulted she'd dared to question him. After a moment, he went back to fussing with his medical supplies.

Mai tried to sit up, winced, thought better of it, and lay back down. If he were planning to inject her with a deadly poison, there wasn't much she could do about it. Idly, she watched the little man carefully lining up the bottles on his tray.

"What happened to her?"

"Who?" The man didn't bother to turn around.

"Your mother, the one who was sick."

"She died. Cancer." He said, his hands still for a moment, and then he shrugged and went back to arranging his medical supplies.

"Oh. I'm sorry." And surprisingly, Mai found that she was. This bothered her. For all she knew the little man had kidnapped her, and here she was feeling sorry for him because his mother had died. But the stark sadness in his voice when he'd said the word 'Cancer' had touched her. "What was her name?"

The man turned and came toward her carrying the immaculately organized tray. The faint light from the bulb above shined on his balding pate, and she saw that his shirt collar was threadbare and his khaki trouser cuffs frayed.

"If you want to know my name, you could just ask." The man's black eyes snapped with mirth. He was the type who went through life laughing at the world's foibles, but never uproariously.

For a minute Mai didn't understand what he meant and then when it sank in she broke out, "Oh, I didn't mean to pry or try to find out your last name by asking your mother's name. I just..." She trailed off, then continued softly. "I just don't understand why I'm here. I don't know what's going on." To her horror, she heard tears in her voice, and had to blink, hard.

The little man looked at her speculatively, then set his tray down on the edge of the gurney. "My name is Hirata. I was hired by my lawyer to take care of you, because he knew I nursed my mother during her last illness."

"Your...lawyer?"

"Yes."

"Who is...?"

"Nagira"

Mai looked quickly in the direction the new voice came from. It was the voice from her dream, the unfamiliar one who had made a joke about being a lawyer. In the doorway stood the voice's owner, a big man in a brown jacket with a fur collar in a fashion from the 1960s. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, and even though he hadn't entered, he seemed to fill the room. Mai shrank back a little. The man seemed to notice, but kept talking. "I'm Shunji Nagira."

"Come in, come in." the fussy little man beckoned him.

Nagira entered, closing the door firmly behind him, and walked slowly over to the bed. "And how is our little patient today?" He asked, his eyes on her.

"Fine." Answered Mai automatically, and swallowed dryly.

"Do you need anything?"

"I...water. I'm thirsty." Having made her request, Mai watched to see what would happen next.

Nagira turned to the little man. "Didn't you give her anything to drink?"

"She did just wake up." He answered reproachfully. "I didn't want to leave her to go shopping when she was still asleep, and you only left medical supplies here."

Nagira dug into his pocket and pulled out some bills, shoving them at the other man. "Here's some yen, go buy water and food enough for a few days. And Hirata,"

The middle aged man looked up from where he was carefully straightening out and counting the crumpled money.

"Bring back the change."

"Of course." Hirata's eyes twinkled as he gave a sardonic little bow and left.

"Hirata?" Mai repeated, gazing at the door through which the little man had exited.

"Yep. That's Hirata. He was one of my clients."

"Clients." Mai repeated dully. Perhaps it was the drugs in her system but her brain seemed to be working much slower than usual. "You're a lawyer. That means he's a..."

"Criminal?" Nagira threw back his head and laughed. "You got it on the nose. I'm a criminal attorney."

"What did he do?" Mai squeaked in alarm. Had she been alone with a murderer, or a...?

"Nothing dramatic." Nagira stopped laughing. "Hirata was accused of embezzling. I got him off." He said proudly. "It was my first big case. Hirata was an accountant. They accused him of stealing from the company slush fund, I found out that the corporate bigwigs were using that money to buy hookers and pay bribes to city officials. Once I made it clear to them that all that would come out in court, they dropped the charges."

"Did he find out they were using the money for bad things?"

"Oh everyone in the company knew." Nagira said carelessly. "It's how those big corporations work. But I think he wanted the money for his mother. He once told me her company fired her when they found out she had cancer so they could get her off their insurance rolls so their premiums wouldn't go up. She couldn't afford to pay the insurance on her own, and when the bills started mounting up, well, you can't really blame the guy."

Mai was shocked. "But it's stealing. And if he stole all that money, why doesn't he dress nicer? Why is he" she gestured around the room, "here?"

Nagira leaned in a little, eyes serious. "He's here for you. He's got a little apartment somewhere and he works a minimum wage job now because his corporation blacklisted him so he'll never work as an accountant for a decent company ever again. I needed someone who could look after you, and I pay slightly better than his minimum wage job." Nagira pulled back as Mai blinked. She'd been rebuked. He went on. "Now that you know who Hirata is, and who I am, let's talk about you."

"Me? I...what do you mean?" Mai was confused.

"Who are you, and why is my half-brother so anxious to protect you?"

"I'm a witch." Mai couldn't meet his eyes as she said it, so she stared down at the bed sheets, waiting for the horror and repulsion she knew had to follow as he found out what she was.

"I got that already," laughed Nagira. "I meant, what's your name and why is Amon taking such an interest in you?"

"You don't hate me?" asked Mai wonderingly, startled enough to look Nagira in the face again.

"Naw. My father was a witch. I didn't get the gene, but Amon seems to have. He doesn't talk much, which is why I have to get my information from you." He crossed his arms and looked at her mock-threateningly. "So spill it. If I'm going to risk my neck and fledgling law career, I want to know why. Amon's been part of the STNJ for over a year now. He's never asked my help in hiding a witch before, so what gives?"

"Oh." Mai collected herself. Suddenly, she wasn't afraid of Nagira anymore. "My name is Mai Shiohama. I think I may have saved your brother's life." She winced at the melodramatic way it sounded.

Nagira stared then burst out laughing. "That must have ticked him off. Ho Ho, poor Amon. Saved by a girl, and a witch too." Nagira slapped his leg and bent double in mirth. It was contagious. Mai started giggling too, then yelped an "Ow" as her movements upset her bullet wound.

Nagira gradually stopped laughing, and grasped the metal bars on the side of Mai's gurney, looking at her approvingly. "You'll do, Mai Izuki. I think you'll do just fine."

In the days that followed, Nagira came by the flophouse often to check on her. Hirata brought her tattered paperback novels and old manga that he got cheap at a used bookstore, and taught her to play chess. Mai found that Hirata had an incredibly organized mind, a trait he told her was necessary in accounting. They shared stories about bosses and co-workers. Hirata had a sharp, cynical streak, and the ability to sniff out hidden, ulterior motives to snicker at that could not have made him very popular at his old job, yet he never turned that cynicism on her. In fact, he never asked how she'd been shot or why Nagira was protecting her, so she in turn never asked him about the embezzling charges.

It was like having an elephant in the middle of the room and pretending not to notice it. They spoke of other things, and gradually she grew comfortable in his care.

Nagira's visits became the high points of her days. He was so different from anyone she'd ever known. The banking world tended to be very serious and conservative, yet Nagira seemed to take nothing seriously. He was self assured to the point of being overwhelming, and in his presence her fears about the future disappeared. One day he showed up with a pair of scissors, handed them to Hirata, and commanded him to cut her hair.

Mai yelped, and grabbed her locks protectively with one hand. Her other hand and arm were in a sling, to keep her from moving her wounded shoulder, though truthfully Mai didn't think she needed the sling anymore.

"Why must my hair be cut?" Mai prided herself on her hair. She kept it longer than most career girls, below her shoulders in fact, and at the bank she'd worn in drawn straight back from her forehead in a headband, and brushed the sides forward over her shoulders to show it off.

"Because the security tape at the bank shows you with long hair, so if you ever want to get out of this room, you need to change your look." Nagira tossed a magazine on the table. "I thought you might look good like this."

Mai picked up the magazine. The woman pictured on the front, a popular rock star, had hair that had been professionally layered so that the ends curled up just below her chin. The overly long bangs fell from a side part, partially obscuring her face, which Mai supposed was the reason why Nagira favored it. She thought of an objection. "But I don't look anything like her. She's so thin! I don't know if this style will suit me."

"Look in a mirror!" Nagira laughed. "You've lost weight since you got shot. It'll be fine." And brushing her objections aside, he convinced Hirata, who was pouring over the magazine, eyes squinted in concentration, to start.

Fifteen minutes later, Mai looked into the hand mirror Nagira had brought, and saw someone she didn't recognize. The ends of her now shortened hair curled up, framing her face, which seemed longer and thinner somehow. Hirata had left some of the bangs long enough to tuck behind her ear on one side, which she did.

"Do you like it?" Hirata's voice was offhand, but Mai could tell it mattered to him.

"Yes." She said, staring in wonder at her image in the mirror. "I like it very much. I look so fashionable."

"Good," Nagira plucked the mirror away, "I can't have a dowdy looking secretary, now can I? My old one fell in love and left to get married. So you start next week, Mariko."

"Mariko?" echoed Mai, puzzled.

Nagira was already headed out the door, "Mariko Kanazawa." He threw over his shoulder, as he made it to the doorway. Turning to close the door behind him, he said, "It's your new name." And left.

TO BE CONTINUED

Please read and review. I'd like to know if anyone is reading this! All opinions, both favorable and unfavorable, are welcome! Thanks to SakuraAngel04 for her encouragement.


	4. Starting Work

Disclaimer: I don't own any Witch Hunter Robin characters.

Please review and let me know how I'm doing!

CHAPTER FOUR: STARTING WORK

Mai Izuki, alias Mariko Kanazawa, looked at the filing cabinets in despair. For not having been in practice many years, Nagira had certainly defended a lot of criminals and drawn a lot of contracts; contracts that she suspected his old secretary had drafted half the time. She certainly hadn't been keeping up with the filing. Most of the papers had been crammed in haphazardly, and a good half of the information could have been stored on computer.

Sighing, Mai turned to the computer on her desk. Her predecessor evidently hadn't believed much in technology, preferring the mash-invoices-and-bills-into-file-folders and forget about them method of record keeping. Mai was used to the spreadsheets and methods of the banking industry, and of keeping track of large numbers of accounts, not the day-to-day transactions of a law office. This wasn't what she'd been trained for, but she was pretty sure that several of Nagira's clients weren't paying what they owed him. With the financial records such a mess, it was hard to tell. As she sat staring blindly at the mess of papers in front of her, she had an idea, but would Nagira approve? Finally, she gathered her courage, tucked her hair behind her ear, and marched up to Nagira's office door.

"Come in." Came the response to her knock.

Mai squared her shoulders, plunged through the door and said, "We need Hirata."

Nagira leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms and said, "I was wondering how long it would take you to ask for help."

"How long?"

He leaned forward, causing his desk chair to squeak in protest at the sudden shift. "The last three girls I hired said it would take an army to get my files in order."

"Wait, you said your last secretary left to get married."

"She did. Six months ago. Since then I've tried to get someone to replace her, but no one lasts very long."

Mai let out a little strangled noise. "Why?"

"Why what?" Mai saw that Nagira's eyes were twinkling. He was playing games with her.

"Why did the other secretaries leave?"

"Different reasons. One couldn't take the work. One couldn't work the computer. One didn't like the clientele. I don't just defend angels you know."

Thinking back on some of the files she'd seen, Mai could well understand that reaction. While Nagira did have some legitimate clients who merely wanted a will written or a contract drawn up, over half of his cases involved trying to get petty criminals off.

"So," Nagira grinned. "You think Hirata is the answer."

"Doesn't everyone deserve a second chance?"

Nagira gazed at her speculatively for a long while. Just as Mai was beginning to get uncomfortable, he spoke. "Alright. Hirata is hired."

"Thank you." Mai blinked. She hadn't expected it to be this easy. "Please don't worry about how you'll pay him. I've found several of your clients are in arrears. As soon as we can get them to pay you we should have enough to cover his salary, and I don't mind taking a pay cut to compensate."

"Slow down." Nagira raised his hands in mock defense. "There's plenty of money. My old man set up a trust fund for me. I can't touch the capital, but the dividends cover the rent on this place, and even if we don't have clients beating down our door, I'm sure it can cover one extra salary. So don't worry."

And that was how Hirata joined the office staff. Mai, still working her way through six months of neglected files, on top of keeping track of new cases Nagira took on, was grateful for the help. She began to realize why Nagira was so popular. He might be flippant and brash in his manner, but he cared about his clients, even the guilty ones. She even suspected that he sometimes slipped money or job opportunities to the family they left behind when he couldn't keep them from jail. In several situations, Nagira looked after their property for them while they were gone. Including their cars.

"Here." Nagira tossed a key ring to Mai one Friday afternoon, an hour before she was due to go home. "Kanosuke's car has been in storage for six months. Go to the storage garage on Thirtieth Street and take it out for a spin."

"But my work?" Mai gestured with the key ring to the folders piled on her desk.

"Forget about it. You need to get out more. You don't want Kanosuke to come home to a dead battery do you? He gets out in another year." Kanosuke was one of Nagira's early failures. According to the file, he'd gotten involved with the wrong crowd, and when they'd gone off to rob a convenience store, he'd followed along and had been caught on the security camera tape along with his friends. All were serving time. In the file Nagira had noted in the file that Kanosuke's main regret was leaving behind the car that he'd just managed to buy with money he'd actually earned, not stolen. Nagira had promised to look after it.

"But don't you want to drive it?" In Mai's experience men loved cars.

"I've got that deposition across town in half an hour, remember? By the time I get back to the office, the garage will have closed for the night. And on Monday I have to go to Nagasaki for a week. So it's up to you."

"Yes. I'll do it." Mai bowed her head, grabbed her purse, waved goodbye to Hirata and walked three blocks to the storage garage. It only took a moment to open the metal door with the key, get into the blue sedan, and drive it out onto the street. It wasn't quite quitting time, so the traffic wasn't too bad.

Kanosuke may have been a failure at picking friends, but he'd shown excellent judgment when it came to cars. The interior seats were leather, the car had power steering and brakes, and the engine worked perfectly after six months of inactivity. There was even a complicated looking radio and cd player built into the dashboard. Mai left that strictly alone. She didn't think Kanosuke would appreciate coming home to find his radio set to her favorite station, as she doubted their tastes in music were similar.

Stopping at the red light of an intersection, Mai saw that she'd come to the end of a park area on her right. To her left, alleyways spilled out between buildings. She glanced down one of them and saw a blonde woman wearing a pink raincoat advancing slowly across an intersection of alleyways. If the woman had glanced to her left, she would have seen Mai staring at her down the alley, but the woman was staring straight ahead, her hand stiffly at her side, concealing something in the fold of her coat.

Something about her tugged at Mai's memory. The night she'd gotten on board the ferry and ended up in the harbor, that woman had been there. Hunting her, as she was obviously hunting someone now. Mai felt as though someone dumped a bucket of ice water on her. Fear chilled her as the waters had that night.

A teenager burst out from an alley two buildings down and skidded on the sidewalk. He wore a black leather jacket, black jeans, body piercings and a look of desperation that Mai recognized immediately. When he skidded, he nearly fell, but recovering his balance he began running down the sidewalk. In a second he would pass Mai's solitary car, waiting at the red light. But if the light for her was red, it was green for the street in front of her. He'd have to run through traffic to get away. The park to her right was no good, there weren't enough trees to provide cover.

Focusing her power, she disengaged the car door leading to the back seat and mentally pushed the door open. For the second time the kid skidded and nearly fell as the car door startled him.

"Get in." Hissed Mai, staring at the rear view mirror for signs of the blonde. The kid hesitated. "Hurry! Get on the floor and lie flat!"

He looked around wildly then threw himself on the floor. Mai just managed to get the door closed using her mind when the blonde appeared, shoving her gun down by her side as she emerged on the sidewalk. She swung her head this way and that, then spotted Mai's car and began walking toward it.

The traffic light was still red. If Mai ran it, she'd be all but admitting guilt. If she got out of the car to head the blonde off before she could look into the back seat, Mai was sure she'd be recognized. Her new haircut suddenly didn't seem an adequate disguise. She glanced in the rearview mirror. The blonde was looking speculatively around the back and side seats, looking for the boy, checking to see if he'd managed to get in the car. If she didn't think of something fast, the woman would soon be close enough to see the kid.

The radio. What is one thing a woman alone in a car with a criminal would not do? Turn on the radio. Mai reached forward and flipped on the radio, managing not to wince as hard-core rock poured through the speakers. She started moving her head in time to the music, allowing her bangs to fall over her face. She felt completely silly. Then the light was green. Mai put her foot on the accelerator with a little more force than necessary and the car lurched across the intersection like a horse starting a race.

Forcing herself to stop accelerating when the car reached the correct speed limit, Mai stole a glance in the rearview mirror again. The blonde was looking after the car, but as Mai watched, she turned and began to stalk her way across the road to the park, obviously intent on searching it. Mai heaved a huge sigh of relief, but kept driving with one eye on the rearview mirror until she'd put many blocks between herself and the park.

Finally, when she felt safe, she pulled into a side street, turned off the engine and peered over the car seat's back to look at the boy lying on the floor.

He'd flipped over and was lying on his back, staring up at her wordlessly. His hair, which he'd dyed an improbable shade of red, was matted and dirty. He had metal rings in nose, lip, and ears, and now that she was leaning over him, she realized he smelled like he hadn't had a bath in days. They stared at each other for a minute, and then the boy smiled.

"I like your taste in music." He said.

TO BE CONTINUED


	5. Formulating a Plan

Disclaimer: I don't own any Witch Hunter Robin characters.

Please review and let me know how I'm doing!

CHAPTER 5: FORMULATING A PLAN

"What do you expect me to do with him?" Nagira was upset.

Mai had driven around town with the boy, carefully avoiding the area where she'd first seen him, until she knew Hirata would have left the office and Nagira would have returned from the deposition. Nagira always worked late. He seemed to think better at night. After she'd returned the car to the garage, she'd taken Mikeo to the law office. On the way there she'd learned that Mikeo's parents had died and he'd been placed in several foster homes. The last one had kicked him out and called the cops when his power manifested.

Mikeo could create shock waves, but he had to concentrate hard to do it, and he pointed out that it's difficult to concentrate when you're scared out of your mind because someone is chasing you. The reason they'd found him is he'd used his power to scare a busboy who'd tried to chase him away from the trashcans he was scrounging in for leftovers. He'd been living on the streets for two weeks. Mai didn't want to think what might have happened to him if she hadn't found him. The STNJ wasn't the worst thing that could happen to a kid alone in the world, even one who dressed and acted tough.

She tried to get that across to Nagira. "Help him. Please. He needs help."

Nagira grabbed his head, rumpling his already unruly hairstyle, and then threw his hands down at his sides. "I'm not in the rescue business."

"You rescued me."

He growled. "That was different. Amon asked me to. What do you think he'd say if he found out I let one of his targets escape?"

"Amon wasn't there. It was his colleague chasing Mikeo, and as for what to do with him," Mai shrugged helplessly and asked, "what would you have done with me if you didn't have the secretary job for me to do?"

Nagira dropped into his chair, scowling. "I was going to send you to Okinawa. I've got a client there who still owes me one. But I didn't think you could manage as a waitress in a waterfront bar. His father owns it, and he's always complaining about not being able to keep staff."

Nagira's brow creased as he thought. "Come to think of it, this kid seems tough enough to handle himself. Shiro might just be able to do something with him. I'll give him a call." He reached for the phone, then paused.

"Don't think I'm planning to make a habit out of rescuing witches."

Mai tried to look as demure as possible. "No, Nagira."

"I'm running a business here, not a charity."

"Yes, Nagira." Mai studiously avoided pointing out all the extra efforts he made on behalf of his clients at his own expense. After all, hadn't she found Mikeo because she was out caring for a client's automobile that Nagira was storing at his own expense?

He lifted the phone from its cradle. "And tell that kid if I'm going to help him he'll have to dye his hair back to his natural color and take those ridiculous rings out of his nose."

"Yes, Nagira." Mai allowed herself a smile as she backed out of her boss's office and went to tell Mikeo he was safe.

Two days later Mikeo was in Okinawa, and life went back to normal. In the weeks that followed, the criminal cases picked up, and Nagira was in and out of the office interviewing witnesses, and venturing into the seedier parts of town. Mai threw herself into re-organizing the office, intent on setting up a new filing system that made sense, and tried very hard not to worry about Nagira.

One evening, just as she was leaving late from the office, she spotted him talking to a homeless person, who'd come out of an alley suddenly. The conversation lasted all of a minute, and then Nagira turned and followed the homeless man back down the alley.

Unable to help herself, Mai looped the purse strap over her head so it crossed her body, leaving her hands free, and trotted across the street after him. Trying to be as quiet as possible, she shadowed her boss and the other man through a series of back streets, each grimier and darker than the ones before.

Soon she found herself in a part of town she didn't recognize. This was crazy. She told herself she was an utter fool for not calling out his name and ending the game, but there was something furtive about the homeless man with him that she didn't like, so she kept going.

They ended up in a sort of clearing between buildings. A metal barrel in the center acted as a fireplace, the burning trash inside sending eerie flickers of light onto the concrete walls and trash cans leaning against them. Mai stayed in the alley's shadows and watched as the homeless man bent next to a dumpster. A form Mai had assumed was discarded trash moved suddenly and sat upright. It was a homeless woman, with a small child, three or possibly four years old.

The homeless man pointed to Nagira, who'd remained back near the fire. The woman handed something to the homeless man, who snatched it out of her hand and took off at a shamble.

The woman stood, took the child by the hand and began moving forward.

"Stop." Nagira's voice was low, but commanding. Even Mai, knowing the order was directed to the other woman and not her, jumped a little. They stood that way in a frozen sort of tableaux for a full minute, then, from two openings between the buildings, out stepped two street punks, one holding a bat, the other a chain.

The woman let out a little shriek and grabbed the child to her chest.

"Give it up." The man with the chain swung it threateningly.

"I suppose you mean my money? How unoriginal." Mai was amazed at how unafraid Nagira sounded.

"Do it! Now!" The chain wielding punk yelled. He was nearly as tall as Nagira and broader.

Nagira turned slightly to face him, purposely turning his back on the smaller kid, who was gripping the bat as though he knew how to use it, and not to play baseball. Mai caught her breath. Nagira was smiling.

She bit her lip in indecision. She could take the chain away from one of the men, but her powers didn't work on wooden bats. She supposed she could send one of the trashcans flying into him, but Nagira would be hit too. While she was trying to decide what to do, Nagira acted. Dropping one shoulder he charged, driving it into the chain wielder's midsection, winding him, and sending him to the ground.

Caught off guard, the bat wielder stared, then started forward, swinging. Nagira rolled to his feet, but nearly tripped as the man on the ground reached around trying to catch his heel. Regardless of the distraction, Nagira ducked under the swing of the bat, and clocked the slighter man with an uppercut to the jaw, causing him to drop the bat.

Jumping forward, Nagira tried to follow up with another punch, but the man on the ground caught his ankle, tripping him. As Nagira landed on his hands and knees, the shorter man kicked him in the face. Mai gasped and took a step forward, out of concealment, but before she could do anything, the shorter man kicked Nagira again, only this time, Nagira caught his leg and pulled.

The shorter man landed flat on his back, his head smacking against the asphalt audibly. Whipping around, Nagira began to grapple with the man who'd tripped him. Mai saw that man's hand snake out and begin patting the floor in search of his chain. She blinked and sent the chain sliding across the ground so hard that it hit the wall at the far end of the clearing and dislodged a few marble sized chunks of concrete.

Meanwhile, Nagira was landing punishing blows, and receiving a few as well until he landed a quick succession of blows to the large man's face which caused him to slump, unconscious. Nagira stood.

"You may as well come out, Mai."

Shamefaced, she came forward to stand by his side. "How did you...?"

"Never wear a bright blue scarf and a light colored coat when you're tailing someone." He reached out and tugged at the fringed end of the scarf. As he did so, she saw by the firelight that a trickle of blood was running down from the corner of his mouth where his lip had torn a little.

"You're hurt!"

Nagira saw where she was looking and drew his knuckles across the wound, looking at the blood smeared on the back of his hand. "What this? It's nothing. I've been in worse fights. These two weren't even a challenge." He flicked his hand at the unconscious forms on the ground. "Forget about it."

"I didn't know. I didn't know Hitsune planned this, I swear." A hoarse voice from near the dumpster called out.

The woman Nagira had come to meet had retreated there to stand protectively in front of her child, when the fight had started.

"'Course not. If you'd been in on it you'd have left by now. Come on out." Nagira motioned the woman forward. "You paid him to contact me, he thought he'd sell me as easy pickings to his little pals. Guys like Hitsune always have another angle." He shrugged.

The woman walked closer, tentatively. The child at her side was dressed in raggedy clothes like her, and was clinging, shivering, to her hand. When Mai saw that her heart melted.

"Here." She kneeled impulsively, unwound her scarf and offered it to the child. He glanced at his mother, then snatched it, and stepped back as if frightened that Mai would change her mind and take it back. Mai smiled, and stood up, backing away out of grabbing distance, to stand at Nagira's side.

"So, you paid for this little meeting. What do you want?" Nagira asked.

"I'm Aya."

"Aya what?"

"Just Aya. This is Hiko." She swung the child's hand a little. He simply clutched Mai's scarf a little harder and stared. "We need to get out of here. We need help."

"Why ask me? I'm a lawyer, not social services."

"You helped Mikeo."

Mai was standing close to Nagira and felt him tense up. She stole a glance at him. His face was hard. "Maybe. Why should I help you? Just because you're a witch too?"

"I'm not a..." The woman burst out angrily. She glared for a minute, then said quietly. "I'm not, but my boyfriend was. He was a musician." She said it defiantly, as if she expected them to deny it. When they didn't, she continued.

"He was in a band. He did things with light. Someone must have figured it out, how we did the special effects without having a special effects guy. We were going to be married, but they arrested the whole band and took them away. Me and Hiko were out getting stuff when they came. They let everyone else go but him. Rik, the lead guitar, he told me they'd asked about me, and about Hiko. So I split. I've been on the run ever since. They aren't getting my little boy."

Nagira looked skeptical. "So you've been on the streets for how long?"

The woman swallowed. "A year maybe."

"How did you find me?"

"I didn't. That's why I needed Hitsune."

"I meant why come to me?" Nagira's voice grew impatient.

"I heard...I mean. There's this kid Mikeo used to hang with. He's dead. He's been dying for a while, but before he died Mikeo got word to him that he was OK, you know? So he wouldn't worry. The kid told me Mikeo got out because a lawyer helped him, a tall guy with lots of hair. I paid Hitsune to find one like that. He found you, and brought you."

Mai tugged at Nagira's sleeve, and just gave him the same look she'd used when she'd been pleading for him to help Mikeo. "They can stay at my place until you can figure something out." She offered softly.

Nagira's jaw clenched, then relaxed. "Fine. Do what you want but don't blame me if she takes off and robs you blind." He gave a wolfish grin. "It's your funeral." The last bit he threw at the woman, leaving Mai uncertain about whether he was goading her, or threatening the woman to behave.

It took Nagira a week to find a safe house and job for the woman and her son. In that time Mai grew used to coming home to company, something she hadn't really had before. Despite the lack of privacy, and having to take turns using the bathroom, she was almost sorry to see them go. The little boy never warmed up to her, but it was hardly surprising considering the life he'd had. She could only hope that they'd have a better one.

Days passed, then one afternoon Nagira took her out to a dump just outside the city limits. He stopped the car and looked at her.

"Why are we here?" Mai had expected to end up at some meeting, to take notes. Though she wasn't good at shorthand, Nagira sometimes asked her to write things down so he wouldn't have to.

"We're here so the next time you use your powers you don't take a chunk out of a building."

Remembering the incident with the chain, Mai blushed. "You saw?"

"In a fight you've got to be aware of everything, or you'll lose."

Nagira opened the car door and got out. "Come on. Amon said you could move metals. There's a ton to choose from. Let's get to it."

Mai got out of the car and looked around at the mounds of refuse, and as she looked she began to feel, to sense the metal objects protruding from the trash. And so her training began. Under Nagira's coaching, she learned to throw metals accurately, how to gauge the strength and velocity, and even to bend objects as large as the rusted out cars that littered the dump.

She liked that part best. She saved up all her petty annoyances at the office – clients who hung up on her when she called about their bill, condescending lawyers, clients who leered at her or made tasteless remarks when they came in for consultations – and imagined they were the metals she twisted into shape. There was something cathartic about pouring out her aggressions into crushing cars. It made her feel powerful, and alive. Nagira watched and cheered her on.

He didn't know that inside she felt the enthusiasm growing each time she used her power, and that it frightened her sometimes. She looked forward to the training sessions with the same intensity a junkie looked forward to a fix. The one time she told Nagira she was afraid she was getting to like it too much, he looked at her like she was crazy.

"You've got a gift, you've got to use it." He told her. And Mai nodded, and went back to work. Nagira began setting up networks of escape houses, letting some clients skate on their bills if their families agreed to take on house-guests if ever he needed them to. He encouraged the clients he got off to move away, to keep them from bad company but also to give him more variety in escape houses.

And things went on as they had. They rescued two more witches, one a walk-in, a sailor who Mikeo had befriended after seeing him accidentally use his power during a wharf brawl, and an older couple who got out of their house just before the STNJ raided it. Amon had called Nagira, who'd got to their house and got them out moments before the raid. Mai could tell that Nagira was pleased, and so was she, until Osaka. At Osaka everything changed.

TO BE CONTINUED


	6. Osaka

Disclaimer: I don't own any Witch Hunter Robin characters, I'm only borrowing them.

Appeal: Please read and review – I admit it. I'm a review junkie!

CHAPTER SIX: OSAKA

"That's the castle." Nagira pointed to a many-layered white building with slate colored roofs garnished with gold accents. It rose up from a base of heavy stone blocks, giving it an uneven look as if a giant child had piled stones together, but an adult giant had painstakingly built a doll's house on top.

Mai and Nagira were killing time before their afternoon meeting with a group of lawyers. They'd driven to Osaka and checked into their rooms at the Rihga Royal Hotel early, so Nagira had offered to show her the city in a quick car tour. Mai had accepted gladly. She'd never been to Osaka before. As they drove around she began to think of the similarities between Tokyo and Osaka. Both were cities with long histories, but the bits and pieces of the past, like Osaka Castle, were few.

Like most modern cities, Osaka and Tokyo were seas of modern concrete and steel girder buildings. Mai could feel the girders, like skeletal bones, holding up the much flimsier floors, carpets, elevator shafts, etc. What would happen if those girders pulled free of their weaker encumbrances? In her imagination, Mai saw the metal pulled out, saw the buildings crumpling inward, crushing everything inside.

"Mai?" Nagira's voice snapped her out of the daydream.

"Huh?"

"I asked where you wanted to go to dinner after the meeting." Nagira smiled, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Anywhere you'd like." She pulled herself together. "Wherever you chose is fine."

"You're easy to please. That's what I like about you."

Mai could feel herself blushing. Had Nagira just said he liked her? She stared out the car window. There was so much metal out there. The cars zipping by, the streetlights overhead, window frames. She wrenched her eyes back to her oversized purse, and pulled out a file.

"Tonight we'll drive by Nagai Stadium after dinner. I lost a bundle on the World Cup in 2002, but I still like Nagai."

"Hmm." Mai made a noncommittal sound. Nagira loved sports and games. It didn't matter if it was baseball, football, or even pachinko; if it could be played, Nagira was all over it. Though she didn't understand the attraction, it was part of him, so she accepted it.

The meeting ran late, and by the time Nagira and Mai left the restaurant, it was nearly 1:00 in the morning. As they waited on the sidewalk for the valet, Nagira's phone rang just as the boy came with their car.

"Hello?"

Mai noticed that Nagira was using his blue cellphone, the one that was registered to an assumed name and a post office box. When she'd asked why he paid that one phone bill with untraceable money orders, he'd laughed and said that sometimes he didn't want people to know he was a lawyer. Besides, he didn't trust the police not to bug his phone in order to get at one of his clients.

Mai tipped the valet and slid into the car as Nagira, intent on his conversation, got behind the wheel. As they pulled away, she listened to his comments.

"Yeah, you're sure he wants out? OK. OK. How'd you know we were in Osaka? OK. We're maybe 20 minutes away. You're sure he'll be there? OK. Here's Mai."

He passed her the phone, saying, "It's Mikeo. He's found another witch who wants out. This one's in a street gang."

Mai took the phone and began to chat to Mikeo. She liked talking to him, and always managed to find a few minutes to speak to him before passing the call on to Nagira whenever Mikeo called the office from a payphone.

She was smiling when she hung up. Nagira pulled into the parking lot of a run down looking bar, and got out. "We're meeting him around back." Mai's heart began to beat faster.

He stopped as she got out, and spoke to her over the top of the car. "On second thought, you stay here."

"Nagira, I..."

"I don't want you getting hurt." She began to protest again, but he reached across the top of the car and touched her hand, which was resting on top of the low-slung sports car. "Besides, someone has to make sure no one steals the car."

He flashed her a wave, and jogged around the side of the building. She could still feel where his hand had touched hers. She placed her other hand on top of it, trying to capture the feeling, but it faded. What was wrong with her? Nagira was her boss. He was probably just being kind.

Raucous music was pouring out of the bar, and light from the neon sign danced in the water pooling along the cracked asphalt. Over the din of the music, Mai heard a sound, like something breaking. It came from behind the bar.

Not bothering to stop and think, she slammed the car door shut, and ran toward the noise. Mikeo's last words had been "Tell Nagira to be careful." She'd forgot to tell him that. She rounded the corner to the back of the bar, nearly tripping as she stumbled over some shattered bottles. It looked as if someone had thrown them, hard, against the wall of the building next door.

Nagira had his gun out. He carried it with him everywhere except court. Three men stood in front of him. One was cowering slightly away from a short stocky man with a Mohawk. The third stood by the bar's exit door, leaning nonchalantly against a dumpster which had been pulled forward from a concrete lean to area big enough to house it. Smaller trashcans lined the wall near the exit.

"You can't have him," the man with the Mohawk said. "He's mine." He stood with his arms crossed, relaxed, arrogant. At first Mai couldn't understand why Nagira had his gun out. No one else had a gun. Then she spotted one in the hand of the man by the dumpster, obviously a flunky waiting for orders.

Mai shrank back against the wall. No one had seen her yet. Beyond the concrete lean to there was a passageway to the trash area of the structures on the block behind the bar, but she didn't see anyone in it. She stopped to listen.

"Maybe you should let him decide that." Nagira smiled humorlessly.

"He," The mohawked thug grabbed the cowering one by his shirt, bunching the fabric, "doesn't get a choice. But you can walk away, maybe." The man's eyes glinted dangerously. He was watching Nagira the way a cat does a bird, single-minded, so he didn't see the younger man at his side, clasp his hands and make a pleading gesture toward Nagira.

"Everyone gets a choice."

"You're all out of them." Dropping the other man's shirt, the Mohawked man threw his palms back behind his head, then forward, and a stream of trash from off the dumpster, including bottles, sliced through the air. Nagira ducked, but lost his gun as a box hit the side of his face, knocking him to the ground, stunned.

The Mohawk man stepped closer, yelling, "You think you can march into my territory and take away my man. I'm the leader here. I keep what's mine, and that includes tonight's take."

Mai was just beginning to come forward when the Mohawk struck again. This time aiming his palms right at Nagira, who was staggering to his feet. Nagira flew through the air and hit the wall of the building behind him, falling into a heap, and lying still.

"NO!" Mai screamed and came forward. The Mohawk looked up, startled, but it was too late. Reaching out with her mind she brought all four of the metal trashcans crashing in on the Mohawked man. Now it was his turn to slump down. The flunky by the dumpster began to raise his weapon, and Mai wrenched it away with a mere thought. He sprang back, surprised.

Mai turned her back and ran to Nagira. She just reached him and was pulling his body toward her when a shot rang out. Gasping, she whirled around and saw the cowering man standing over the pile of trashcans, gun in hand. Smoke wafted up from the barrel. She glanced over to where she'd mentally thrown the weapon, and of course it wasn't there.

"Leader, huh? Just because all I can do is make fog so the security cameras won't catch you? I was always smarter than you." No longer cowering, the smaller man grinned wolfishly at the body under its pile of metal.

"What the...?" The man by the dumpster burst out, glancing back and forth between his dead leader and the man holding the gun, as if he couldn't believe what had just happened. He turned and began to run toward the passageway.

Without pause, the other man lifted his arm and shot him in the back.

Mai flinched, and stared, wide eyed, as he came toward her, carrying the gun down at his side. "Why did you...?"

"Shoot him?" The man shrugged. "He's just a human. Why not?" Then he veered away, and picked up a duffel bag, which lay near the piled trashcans. Unzipping it, he took out a fistful of money. "Ah, lovely, laundered money. And now it's all mine." He grinned over it as if it were a lost lover, then, his expression changing in a second, he spat at the trashcans. "Three-way cut? Hah."

Mai rose slowly to her feet, Nagira forgotten, as it began to sink in. "You planned this. You never wanted to be rescued. You asked Nagira to come, hoping this would happen. Hoping you'd be able to steal the money."

The thief's eyes grew speculative. "Nagira, huh? Well your little Nagira's a loose end." He stood, duffle bag in hand, and began to point the gun.

Power coursed through Mai. An overwhelming anger charged her body, consuming her thoughts so that she nearly forgot to breathe. Then she went cold. Straightening her spine, she did what she had to do, what she wanted to do. The dumpster sailed through the air and struck the gunman, but she didn't stop there. It kept going, the man pinned to its surface, until it struck the building she was standing next to with a force that shook it to its foundation.

Expressionlessly, she put her hand up and made a slow waving motion, grinding the dumpster harder against the wall. Unlike the Mohawked man, she didn't need to use hand gestures for her power to work, but she did it now because she felt like it.

A moan at her feet distracted her. Eyes narrowed, she prepared to send the dumpster at whatever it was keeping her from her joy. It was Nagira. For a second, she recognized him, yet felt nothing. Then memory returned. This was Nagira, who'd saved her. What was she doing?

Mai's hand dropped to her side and she fell to her knees. She got her arms around his shoulders and pulled him upright.

He rubbed his head where the box had hit him. "What happened?"

"The guy with the Mohawk threw you against the wall."

Nagira started to laugh, then sucked in his breath and winced. "I mean afterward."

"Oh. The witch we came for shot the other two, and took the money they'd stolen. He planned it that way."

Muttering a curse, Nagira staggered to his feet, his hand still clasped against his head. "Where is he now?"

Don't look at the dumpster. Thought Mai silently. Just don't notice it. "He's gone now." It was the truth, but it made him assume a lie.

"Cut and ran did he?" Nagira glanced around at the trashcans piled on top of the corpse, and spared a brief look at the dumpster before walking toward the trashcans. "You must have put up quite a fight." He pushed at a dented trash can lid with the toe of his foot. "No wonder he took off. Wish I could have seen it." He looked at her.

Mai felt shame course through her, much as the intoxicating power had only minutes before. She dropped her gaze, saw Nagira's gun lying where he'd first stood, and went to get it.

"Here." She handed it back to him. It wouldn't do to let the police find it with Nagira's fingerprints all over it. Even if ballistics didn't match the bullets in the two bodies to his gun, they'd certainly call him in for questioning. As for the real murder weapon, Mai carefully did not look at the dumpster, now flush against the building. Even if they did find it, it was probably ground to metallic dust. "Can we go now?"

Pocketing the weapon, Nagira placed an arm around her shoulders and walked her back toward the front of the bar. "Sure thing. You did good tonight, Mariko." He said the name emphatically, as he'd done the first few days when he'd given her the alias, and she'd had trouble remembering it.

Forcing herself to smile, she muttered a quick "Thanks." And averted her gaze to the cracked asphalt as if concentrating on not tripping.

Who was she? She wasn't the same girl she'd been when people still called her by her real name. She could barely remember that girl. Was she Mariko Kanazawa? The phantom Nagira had created? A sort of chic, efficient office girl by day and superhero by night? That was how he thought of her, but Mai knew it wasn't a real image of her either. The truth was, she was treading a very fine line between altruism and destruction.

Heaven help her, she'd understood all too well the witch's 'He's just a human' comment. When she was using her power she felt strong, invincible, and better than everyone else. It was addicting, and the feeling of superiority, of entitlement just kept growing every time she used her powers. For the first time she admitted to herself that what she could do might change her irredeemably into the sort of monster she'd just fought. She'd beaten him easily, but could she stop the evil from growing inside her? Where would it end?

TO BE CONTINUED


	7. After Osaka

Disclaimer: I do not own any Witch Hunter Robin characters, I'm only borrowing them.

Thanks to my reviewers, SakuraAngel04 –a steady encouragement (and I promise not to be a slacker), YellowDancer21 for your kind words and advice, and also to Kate, my newest reviewer.

Personal note: My computer disk ATE chapter seven so I had to rewrite it. I'm going from memory here, so forgive me if it turns out a bit choppy. I HATE MY COMPUTER! I'm quite sure it did something nasty to the disk.

CHAPTER SEVEN: AFTER OSAKA

Mai stared out the car window. She'd agreed to go with Nagira to a client's office to pick up some documents before heading off to the dump for more training.

The last thing she'd wanted to do after Osaka was use her power, but Nagira had insisted.

"You have a gift, Mai. You have to use it." He'd said.

And so she had. Nagira was like a child excited about a new toy. How could she deny him? Every other day after work they'd gone to the dump, and the strain of using her power while clamping down on the dark excitement it stirred up within her was beginning to tell. She had dark circles under her eyes, and the nightmares were getting worse. Nagira had begun to cut the training sessions short, ordering her to go home and get some sleep. As if she hadn't tried, but sleep eluded her.

She kept reliving that moment when she'd nearly crushed Nagira, just because he'd distracted her. Sometimes in her dreams it was Nagira behind the dumpster getting crushed to a pulp. Sometimes in her dreams, she didn't even care.

And now here she was in his car, once again on her way to another training session as soon as the last errand of the day was run. This particular client worked near the waterfront, so Nagira took the road that led down by the sea.

The water was dark and still, as was the night. Nagira's car barely made a sound as he drove, too fast as always, along the water. Wooden pylons, connected to planks, held the roadway away from the lapping water below. It was somewhere around here that Mai had pulled Amon onto the man-made beach nearly a year ago.

"Amon hasn't called lately." Mai spoke the words dreamily, half hypnotized by the seascape flashing by.

She heard the smile in Nagira's voice as he answered. "My brother isn't exactly the talkative type. I never could get him to open up, and we shared an apartment for nearly four months after my father died."

"Hmm?" Mai, still sleepy, made an interrogative noise.

"Amon's mother had just died too. My law school roommate bailed on me to go get married, so I had an extra room. Amon was finishing his last year of high school when dad died. I let him stay with me until he figured out what he wanted to do. Turns out the STNJ snapped him up. Dad was a witch, and unlike me, Amon's got the gene too."

"Were you close to him growing up?" Mai assumed a divorce situation since Nagira had said 'Amon's mother'.

Nagira smiled humorlessly. "I didn't even know I had a brother until the reading of the will. My father made sure no one knew about his mistress or his other child. Appearances were everything to him. From what little Amon let slip, dear old dad didn't spend any more time with him than he did with me. Still, his guilty conscience must have got to him. He split the estate evenly between Amon and me in two separate trust accounts. We can't access the capital, but the earnings are ours. So far as I know Amon's never touched a yen of his. Neither of us liked dad very much, but Amon's got more principles than I do when it comes to money." Nagira's tone was self-mocking.

"I'm so sorry." Nagira had never spoken of his family or his relationship with Amon. Mai assumed it was because he wanted to keep things businesslike. She had no idea that the truth was so painful. Suddenly, she missed her mother, and wondered if she'd gone on with her life, thinking her only child dead. Still, it was better that way, and safer. Mai hugged herself and shivered.

"Don't be." Nagira's voice was brusque. "Amon's a survivor. And pride's not always a bad thing. Besides, I thought girls always go for the dark brooding types."

"I don't." Whispered Mai.

"Come on. You saved his life." Nagira's tone was joking, but there was an edge to it.

Mai straightened her spine and looked straight at Nagira. "I saved Amon because I couldn't save my boss from being killed. I needed to do something right, and he happened to be there. He is not my 'type'." She kept staring at Nagira until he looked back at her and saw that she meant it. Why was it so important to her that he take her words seriously? She slumped back in her seat.

"I wonder, what is your type, Mai Izuki?" Nagira asked softly.

You are. Thought Mai to herself. But I can never have you. She pretended not to hear the question and looked out the window again. They'd left the sea and were now entering a maze of skyscrapers and apartment buildings, the urban redevelopment zone. On Mai's side of the road a boy, hardly junior high school aged, was jogging across one of the small open green spaces, too small to be called a park.

At first Mai thought he was just exercising, but he wasn't jogging, he was sprinting, hard. Mai leaned closer to the window. A woman in a dark raincoat with short light brown hair was sprinting after the boy, and gaining. Something about the way she held her hand down by her side, in the folds of the coat as she ran, set off warning bells in Mai's brain.

The boy was headed straight for the road, and he wasn't stopping.

"Nagira! Look out!"

He glanced over, saw the boy crossing in front of the car, and pulled on the steering wheel. Tires screeching on the pavement, the sports car swerved, and made a sharp ninety-degree turn, coming to a stop facing the buildings on the other side of the road.

Her heart pounding in her chest, Mai saw the boy's pale frightened face as he spared them a glance before racing across the empty lanes of traffic past their car and disappeared between two buildings on the other side. The woman sped after him, her face set, determined, and her gun hand still down at her side.

"Nagira, I think that was a witch." She managed to choke the words out despite her shock.

"Well then. Let's go rescue him."

And with that Nagira turned the car back facing forward and took off after them.

TO BE CONTINUED

(Assuming my stupid computer doesn't eat the next chapter too!)


	8. Another Rescue

Disclaimer: I don't own any Witch Hunter Robin characters

CHAPTER EIGHT: ANOTHER RESCUE

"There!" Mai pointed to where the short haired woman in the dark raincoat was running down the street.

Nagira hauled on the steering wheel and executed a highly illegal U turn to chase after her as she chased after the young witch.

"Looks like we've got company." A motorcycle zoomed past them, overshooting the alley the woman hunter disappeared into.

"What should we do?" Mai breathed, eyes intent on the alleyway ahead. Her pulse was racing, and the excitement of the chase was making it harder and harder to control her need to let loose with her powers. The desire to show off was always there, just under the surface.

"We head them off." Nagira sped up past the alley entrance, down four blocks and swerved into a side street. The street passed an intersection, then another. Just ahead loomed a wall, dead-ending the street. He pulled the car around in a U turn, nearly scraping the paint, and cut the engine with the car facing the last intersection.

"Come on." He kicked the car door open and began sprinting toward the intersection.

Mai followed more slowly, noting that her boss had left the headlights on. It would make it impossible for the witch hunters to see their license plate, and keep them backlit. She approved. Every sense tingled with anticipation. The metal ribs of the buildings, and the root-like pipes under their asphalt blanket called to her.

By the time she reached the intersection, she knew where every scrap of metal was in the street before her.

A flash of white, and the boy ran past. Nagira cursed and ran after him, but Mai stopped when she came to the intersection and waited, feeling her mouth crease into a smile.

The boy on the motorcycle came first. Mai decided to play with him a little. She bent and rolled a trashcan lid directly into his path.

The boy tried frantically to avoid it, but she sent it directly under his front tire, the bent edge sharp enough to pierce it. The motorcycle rolled onto its side and skidded past its driver, who lay on the pavement.

The sharp staccato sound of running footsteps came from behind Mai. Without bothering to turn she kept the motorcycle going and had it careen off the building in front, then she threw it at the sound of the footsteps.

"Ah!" The woman cried out, so Mai shifted a little, offering only her profile. The woman was on the ground, the motorcycle lying behind her, its back wheel still spinning impotently in the air. It must have missed her.

As Mai watched, the woman raised her gun hand and fired. She was fast, but not as fast as Mai. Reaching out with her mind, she pulled the metal sewer lines up from the pavement. They were rusted antiques, superceded by the synthetic tubes that now carried the city's sewage underground, but they made a fine barrier.

Globs of liquid splattered against them. Mai grinned. This was getting interesting. She bent the metal tubes back and forth, making them resemble headless snakes searching for their dinner, and giving them a nearly impossible flexibility. Then she sent them toward the woman.

"Mai!" Nagira's voice came faintly. "I need you."

It was like swimming up from the bottom of a pool filled with Molasses, but gradually Mai came back to herself. She heard the woman frantically scrabbling to get away from the metal pipes, and with an effort, Mai changed their purpose from predator to barrier, pulling out more pipes and weaving them across the alley lane.

In another second she was running toward Nagira's voice. There was another sound coming from that direction, a constant incoherent cry of rage or fear. As she shot between buildings, she came to a scene that stopped her, literally cold.

Icicles littered the ground, not the natural kind that looked like dripped candle wax, but knife-like spikes. The end of the street had been closed for some sort of roadwork. The street was torn up, and penned behind sawhorse barriers, and in front of the barrier stood the boy, one hand outstretched, the other bracing it.

The smell of the sea was strong, and even though the evening had been warm and humid, Mai could see her breath. She glanced around wildly for Nagira and finally saw him crouched behind a forklift sort of a vehicle which was studded with the ice knives.

"Stop it!" Mai yelled as she came forward.

The boy looked over at her, and she gasped as she recognized the look in his eye. He was drunk with the power, and past the point of caring or listening. He was also younger than she'd thought.

In an instant, Mai pulled the Triangular saw toothed bucket off an earthmover vehicle and threw it at the boy, using it to pin him to the ground. It took all her concentration bend the bucket out of shape to ensure his capture without accidentally amputating a limb. The result was an amoeba shaped blanket pinning the child to the pavement.

"Nagira." She breathed as he pulled himself to his feet and walked over to her, brushing ice shards from his coat.

"You did good, Mai. The kid was too hysterical to listen. He thought I was one of the witch hunters." Nagira smiled ruefully, "Maybe we should get some sort of a sign to flash at...Hey."

Mai fell against Nagira's chest, shaking. He was OK. He wasn't dead, but he could have been. While she'd been playing cat and mouse with a couple of witch hunters, he could have been killed.

His hands grasped her forearms and gently pushed her a few inches away from where she'd glued herself to his torso.

"What's wrong?" He asked in that low velvety voice of his. She read concern in his eyes, concern and some other emotion she couldn't name.

"I thought you were..." Her voice cracked. She couldn't go on with the thought.

Nagira gave her a crooked smile. "You don't need to worry about me." He said, and squeezed her arms gently before releasing her. "But I appreciate the thought." He kept looking at her, then smiled again, muttered something that sounded like "Heck with it" and took her in his arms and kissed her thoroughly.

A banging noise brought Mai back to the present. Nagira raised his head and sighed. "I think that's the kid."

Mai blinked and sprang away, pressing her hand against her lips. "Oh!" She'd completely forgotten the young witch she'd trapped. He'd be running out of oxygen about now. She pulled the metal off him and dropped it with a clank over by the earth-moving vehicle it belonged with.

The boy raised himself on his hands and knees, gasping for breath. Mai dropped to a seat beside him and put her hand on his shoulder.

"It's OK." She said. "We aren't hunting you. We're here to help."

He kept coughing, and brushed her hand away, but he didn't attack. She felt Nagira come to stand behind her.

"Who are you?" His voice held the high querulous tone of a preteen. He was tall for his age, bony, with short dark hair, rich spaniel's brown eyes, and a child's clear skin.

"I'm...Mariko." Mai had trouble remembering her alias for a minute. "I'm a witch too."

That brought her a sharp look from the boy. "What do you want?"

"Just to help you." At a loss, she turned and looked at Nagira. She wasn't good with children, she'd never had brothers or sisters and had never been much of a babysitter.

Nagira thrust his hand out, as if expecting a handshake, and said to the boy. "You look like you could use a lift."

The boy stared at the hand suspiciously for a moment, then looked between her and Nagira, assessing them. Then he grabbed Nagira's hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

"Where are your parents?" Asked Mai.

The boy gave her an angry look. "I don't have 'parents'. My dad's gone. I live with my mom, grandma, grandpa, and sister."

"You look a little young to be a fugitive. Why don't we take you home?" Nagira asked, beginning to make his way back to the car.

"No!" The boys stopped following them. "I'm not going back. It's their fault I was being chased."

"What do you mean?"

"They called the hunters on me. I know it. They betrayed me." The kid's voice went cold, flat. Mai had to restrain herself from taking him in her arms and hugging him. Despite what she'd done at the bank, she couldn't imagine her own mother ever turning on her. Of course, her mother had known about her abilities.

"Are you sure?" She couldn't help the doubt she heard in her own voice.

"Of course I'm sure! It's all because of what happened at school."

"You might want to tell us about it in the car. Once those two witch hunters report in to the STNJ this place is going to be crawling with hunters." Nagira and Mai exchanged a look. Amon could be among them. It wouldn't do to have his colleagues find out Nagira was rescuing the witches Amon was supposed to be hunting. True, Amon had called them once to shelter an old married couple being hunted, but that didn't mean he wanted anyone he worked with to know about it.

"Come on." Mai grabbed the boy's hand and began to run to the car.

He dug his heels in a minute, then came with her. When they reached the car he climbed into the back seat without a word. Nagira jumped in and within a minute pulled the car back on a main street and sped away.

"So, what happened at school?" Nagira asked casually.

The boy, pressed between their seats, was alternating between looking at the front windshield and examining the various dials and gauges on the console.

"I was making an ice castle after school behind the playground." He said absently. "One of the other kids came and saw me." He grew quiet for a minute, then continued. "He was an older kid, a mean bully. I guess I got scared. I didn't mean to but the...castle came down and it...hurt him."

"I'm so sorry." Mai told him softly. The boy looked at her.

"I went home. I told my mom and grandma what happened. They sent me to the store to buy candy. When I was walking home, THEY came."

"The STNJ hunters?"

"Yeah, I guess. I ran really fast." He sounded childishly proud of himself. "I lost them a couple of times, but they kept finding me. My family must have told them where I liked to hang out. They must have told them everything." The bitterness was unmistakable.

"Maybe not." Mai offered. "The STNJ are really smart. They could have found out some other way."

The boy was silent, letting his expression of disbelieving contempt speak for itself.

Nagira broke into the conversation. "Well, if that's how it is, what do you say you come home with us."

"No. And if you try to make me I'll..." The kid moved back in his seat and began to bring his hands up.

Mai saw Nagira tensing up, so she acted first, practically throwing herself into the empty space between the driver and passenger seats, she grabbed the boy's hands.

"That's not necessary. We'll take you wherever you want to go, right?" She glanced back over her shoulder at Nagira, who nodded. "Where do you want to go?"

The boy got a faraway look in his eye, and then said, slowly. "I've got a cousin. He's older an has his own apartment." He went on, his words gaining speed. "He's really tough. He has a job. My mom doesn't like him, so she thinks I don't either. She'd never guess that I'd go there. Since he doesn't like her back, I'm sure he'll hide me for a while. I'll be safe there. Please, could you just drop me off at the train station?"

"Look, kid. If he's a family member the STNJ may have his place staked out already." Nagira told him, reluctantly.

"Why would they? He's my dad's cousin, not my mom's. Like I said, she doesn't like him. Besides, I'm not going with you."

Mai didn't like the look the kid had in his eye. She'd only just got him calmed down the first time he got upset. She tore a piece of paper off her notepad and jotted down Nagira's untraceable phone number, and handed it to him.

"OK. But if you run into any trouble, you must promise to call us and we'll come and get you."

Something flashed in the boy's eyes, but he took the piece of paper. "Alright." He muttered.

Nagira pulled up next to a train station. As soon as the car rolled to a stop, the kid was out the door, about to shut it behind him.

"Hey kid." Nagira's voice stopped him. He froze, waiting. "What's your name?"

"Isao. Isao Watanambe." He said, then shut the door and jogged away into the station.

Mai watched him go, wondering what would become of him. There was so little they could do to help. She had a hard enough time just helping herself to stay in control. What chance did a child witch really have?

"Hey." Nagira's voice pulled her out of her reverie. "We can only help if they want it." He reminded her softly.

She smiled faintly. "At least we saved him from the STNJ." She said, and leaned back against the car seat.

"You look beat. I'm going to drop you off then go pick up those papers."

Mai began to protest then stopped. It wasn't often Nagira let her out of training. Besides, she needed time to think about what had happened between them after she'd trapped Isao. A few minutes later, he dropped her off at her apartment, and was gone.

The next morning Nagira greeted her as he always did. He sent Hirata out to get coffee and bean curd pastries for a meeting later that morning, and called Mai into his office to take notes on the documents he'd picked up the night before.

Mai kept expecting him to mention the kiss, but apart from a warmer glint in his eye when he looked at her, he was the same old Nagira.

They were seated at the small table in the conference area of the office when Amon strode in, and slammed a newspaper down on the documents in front of them.

"Well hello to you too." Nagira greeted him facetiously.

"Read it." Amon commanded tersely.

Nagira stilled, then reached out and pulled the newspaper to him. As he read, Amon spoke.

"There are reasons why I don't call on you for every case."

Nagira's hands clenched on the newspaper, crackling it. Unable to read upside down, Mai watched helplessly as his brow furrowed. He looked up at Amon. "I didn't know."

"Stay out of it." Amon growled, and left, his black coat swirling in his wake.

Nagira got up from the table and followed him to the door.

Alone in the conference room, Mai grasped the edge of the newspaper gently, and pulled it toward her. The front-page story was horrific. A family, a mother, father, adult aged daughter, and grandchild had been slaughtered. Between them there were seventy-two knife wounds in the bodies, though no knife had been found on the scene. Police were looking for the other grandchild, who the paper described as a "troubled youth" also being sought by police as a possible witness to the death of a classmate whose body had been found crushed by a pool of water. Anyone with information as to the whereabouts of Isao Watanambe was urged to contact police immediately.

Mai dropped the newspaper on the table, no longer able to deny what her mind was frantically trying to disbelieve. Isao was a monster. And she'd freed him. The STNJ had been right to hunt him. If she and Nagira hadn't interfered, Isao's family would still be alive.

Feeling sick to her stomach, she buried her face in her hands, and hunched over.

She heard Nagira enter the room. He put his hand on her back.

"It's not your fault, Mai. No matter what Amon says, we've been doing a good thing. I admit, I wasn't thrilled about it at first, but now it feels right. We'll just have to be a bit more careful about who we help."

A roaring blackness opened up before Mai. She felt as if she were about to fall into an abyss. Swallowing her bile, she turned to Nagira.

"I need to go home. I don't think I can work today."

He looked like he was about to object, then his expression softened. "Sure. Take the day off. Take two days off. Hirata and I will manage."

He pulled out her chair to let her get up. She started toward the door, but as she brushed past him, he stopped her by putting his hand on her arm.

"Mai, when you get back, we'll talk."

She felt the darkness reach out and cover her soul again, and depression pulled at her heart like a lead weight. Nagira must have seen it in her eyes, because he put his hand on her cheek, and pulled her forward so their faces were only inches away.

"Not about Isao. About us. I want there to be an 'us'."

Mai touched his face gently, mirroring his gesture and stared up into his warm brown eyes, memorizing the contours of his visage. Then she stepped back, and left the office for good.

Nagira would be upset. It wasn't in his character to rant or rave or throw things, but he'd feel her absence. She didn't delude herself that he'd be all right, but he'd survive. He was the strongest, kindest, person she'd ever known, and she would cut her own heart out rather than stay with him, placing him and this tender new feeling growing between them in danger.

She'd call Mikeo. There was talk among the witches of a program in Italy that trained witches to use their powers in the service of the church. Mai didn't know if she believed it, but anything was better than risking Nagira's life. Her mind racing ahead, she already began to think of resume websites she could surf to find Nagira a new secretary.

As she left the building, it began to rain. Mai lifted her face to it, feeling the cold drops against the warm air, put her head down and walked away.

TO BE CONCLUDED NEXT CHAPTER


	9. Ending

Disclaimer: I do not own any Witch Hunter Robin Characters

Thanks to my reviewers who kept me going until the end.

CHAPTER NINE: ENDING

Mai walked, trembling, around the side of the imposing stone edifice. It was one of many ancient churches in Italy. The stones were beginning to blacken with the pollution of the city, but the underlying beauty was still there in its arched windows and carved ornamentation. A light rain began to fall as she rounded the corner.

Italy wasn't sunny all the time, as she'd imagined it was. On the airplane over, she'd thought of all the movies she'd seen set in Italy. It was always sunny. The reality had been a harsh surprise. Grey lowering skies, the air heavy with expectation of rain, and now it was raining, a light, steady relentless pressure all over.

Mai lifted a hand to her forehead, and swept back the locks threatening to plaster themselves to her face. She should have brought an umbrella.

Her steps led her to a smaller building, a house set beside the church. It was a parsonage, the place where the priest lived. This particular priest was very high up in the Vatican hierarchy, yet he chose to live in a simple parsonage. It hadn't been easy to find his address. She'd had to do it behind Nagira's back, for she didn't want him following after her. That would be too dangerous.

She'd left him a goodbye note, knowing that he'd neither accept nor understand her explanation. She'd also left him a resume for her replacement. Nagira needed someone to keep his office organized, and of all the ones she'd found posted on the internet, Mika Hanamura's had seemed the most promising.

She'd arrived. She set down the overnight bag she'd carried with her from the airport. The parsonage door was before her. Mai stared at it for a moment, collecting herself, then reached out and knocked. It was just coming on evening. Perhaps the priest was out to dinner, or at a meeting, or in the church presiding over a service. She waited dully, not knowing what she would do if no one answered the door. Surely he had a housekeeper or a servant?

The door swung inward, and Mai looked up into the face of the most imposing man she'd ever seen in her life. His expression was remote, like the marble statues of the Vatican she'd seen in the brochure of Italy she'd read on the plane. Deep wrinkles were carved into his cheeks. His hair was white. He looked old, yet solid rather than infirm, and completely unapproachable.

Mai sank to her knees, her heart sinking within her as well.

"Please. I need your help." Mai spoke her words to the ground, unable to meet the older man's gaze. "I'm a witch, but I don't want to live this way anymore. The darkness...it tries to consume me. Can you help me?"

There was silence, then strong hands grasped her upper arms and lifted her, disappearing as soon as she was on her feet. Mai steeled herself, and dared to look up. The man's face hadn't changed. He was still a dignified bastion of his church, but there was a difference about the eyes, which looked at her so searchingly.

"Do not kneel to me, child. It is fitting to kneel only to our Lord." His voice was low, commanding. Mai doubted that anyone would fall asleep during one of his sermons.

"I'm...sorry. I didn't know." Mai bit her lip nervously then continued. "They say your God can do miracles. Can He help me?"

"Yes." The priest answered simply. "If you truly desire to be changed, only He can change you."

Mai thought of Nagira, waiting for her in Japan, waiting and not understanding the danger he was in when she was around. She thought of her friends, and the family she'd voluntarily left behind. If the darkness inside consumed her, and she returned to Japan, none of them would be safe. She swallowed, straightened her spine, and answered. "I do. I do wish to be changed. But if I can't..." She glanced away from those questioning eyes, then back again. "If I can't, then I know what you must do. I understand..." Mai trailed off, unsure how to say it. If the priest couldn't cure her, he'd be forced to kill her. If he could.

The priest stepped back, pulling the door open wider. "A wiser man than I once said, that the church is in the business of hope. I have seen many things in my time as a priest, but I have never yet seen God give up hope for a repentant soul. Come in."

Mai stood on the doorstep, hardly able to believe her luck. The priest was going to help her, or at least try to. She picked up her bag and took a step forward, then another, toward the welcoming interior light of the parsonage entry hall. As she moved, the priest nodded gravely, encouraging her.

"I am Father Juliano. What is your name?"

"Mai. My name is Mai."

"Come in, Mai. We have much work to do."

It would be work, a great deal of it, Mai had no doubt. The black beast inside her would require taming, and it would probably not be pleasant. But it had to be done. That was something Nagira just couldn't understand. The thought of him sent tears pricking her eyes. "I will come back to you someday." She promised Nagira in her mind. "I swear it."

"Coming." She said.

And with that, Mai crossed the threshold, and began her new life. She would never forget Nagira, or Japan, but until she could return with confidence, until she could stay by Nagira's side with no self-doubt, Italy would be her home.

THE END

Explanation: I basically wrote this to give a back story as to why Nagira would help Amon hide Robin, and why he seemed to have a network of informants and to know so much about 'witches' in the anime series. It also serves to explain Nagira's anger with Amon when he thought Amon wanted to hunt down Robin. This is just a fanfiction; so if anyone out there can come up with a better idea of Nagira's background, have at it! I wish you all the best.


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